


Revealing

by shadowolfhunter



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe comes to terms with divinity, Dan is still hurting, Ella is a magical creature, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Rae-Rae, Slow Burn, Wings, Wounds, lucifer's sister cares, what might happen next
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-05-28 09:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15045548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowolfhunter/pseuds/shadowolfhunter
Summary: He's badly hurt. Chloe's seen his true face, and Lucifer thinks she doesn't want to know him any more.Ella's mapped the scene. She knows what has to have happened. There's only one answer she needs. She goes back to Lucifer's loft apartment.





	1. I know where I'm going

**Author's Note:**

> okay, this is entirely in my head. It's been worrying at me for over a month now. It's not that I don't like DeckerStar specifically, it's just that I see him with other partners than Chloe.
> 
> Besides which, at some point I think we really need to have Lucifer and Ella dancing in the pale moonlight... inspired totally by behind the scenes vids of Tom and Aimee dancing together, which will always be adorable.

By the time he gets back to his apartment, he’s exhausted, nauseated. He managed to reassert his glamour to get out of there.

He’s heartsick. It’s Chloe. He’s sure he’s broken her.

He stumbles to his bed, falls up the steps, he retains just enough strength to tear off his jacket, before he collapses across his bed, the growing pain across his back soars ever higher as his damaged wings fall out. He doesn’t quite pass out, but he can’t move, he lies there on his belly, panting, as the pain of his wounds robs him of anything but the need to lie perfectly still.

 

Ella is tired, she’s worked hard, mostly to protect Chloe and Lucifer.

Which is a thing. She’s mapped it all out. She knows what he did for Chloe. She needs just one answer, and she knows he isn’t going to like the question. She feels just a little bit strange asking, because all this time she has taken him for a method actor, and now she feels somewhat foolish, because she knows he isn’t.

He is the Devil.

It never occurs to her that he could be a threat. He’s just Lucifer. She knows him well enough now, she’s witnessed him breaking his heart over Chloe. He’s never hurt anyone, although he’s had ample opportunity to, he’s dorky, and curious, and very confused about humans.

Now she realises that he is exactly what he has always said that he is, she just needs to know.

The wings.

The elevator door opens, and Ella steps out. The loft is quiet, dark and seems empty, but something catches her eye as she glances around, uncertain.

Drops of something on the floor.

Blood.

She runs to where she knows his bedroom is, she’s up the steps before she’s even thought twice about it.

She stops dead, fist to her lips as she takes in the scene in front of her. Nausea swells in her throat. But she moves closer.

All she can think is that he’s hurt, badly, and he’s just collapsed across his bed.

She’s mapped the scene. The visible evidence of what Lucifer must have done for Chloe is right there in front of her.

Ella makes a quick decision, she isn’t a doctor, but she can hardly take him to a hospital. And there’s no one else.

He’s panting, she can hear the pain in every inhale, every exhale, there’s the slightest movement which indicates that he’s conscious, and she doesn’t want to think of him in that much pain again.

His head is turned towards the right side of the bed, very quietly she steps round, into his field of vision, his breathing hitches when he sees her, and she lays a very gentle hand on his arm. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s only me.”

“Miss Lopez.” His words are barely a croak, and she strokes his arm, trying to soothe him. Much later she will wonder at her own temerity, but this is Lucifer. Her friend. He’s hurting so much, the damage to his wings is terrible, he needs the wounds treating, needs the broken feathers removed. In fact he needs so much help she almost feels overwhelmed at the task, but she can’t leave. She can’t even ask, because that question is redundant now.

She knows. She doesn’t care that he’s the Devil, or that he’s not even human. Her compassion doesn’t recognise that boundary. She knows he protected Chloe from that hail of bullets, with his wings.

Hardly the action of an evil being.

 

Lucifer can’t move, it hurts too much. Besides, Ella has seen. She seems utterly unaffected by divinity, just focused on helping him.

He doesn’t know if he passed out for a moment, but she’s by his side again, this time she’s assembled some tools, a bowl of water, clean clothes, and she’s touching his wing, he moves his arm a little, buries his face in the crook of his elbow as Ella begins to clean the wounds, he holds his wing still with everything that he has, bites down into the edge of his pillow as her gentle strong hands move as carefully as they can over the mangled surface.

She feels every flinch, feels the tension in the damaged limb as he fights to hold still. She hates that she’s hurting him more, but it needs to be done. She prays to his Father that somehow blessed oblivion will claim him, because surely he’s suffered enough. She’s not even sure she means right now, or the Fall. Or how he suffers because of Chloe and Pierce.

He passes out at some point. She notices that his wings go limp, and the tension in his body is gone. For a second she takes a hand from her task, and gently rubs his spine between where she can see the huge wings are attached. Mental note to cut the shirt off him, it’s filthy, blood-soaked and she can see bullet holes in it.

She has physical evidence of how he protected Chloe without thought for his own life.

 

She has no idea how long it takes, she finishes one wing, and moves on to the other, he remains blessedly unconscious, and she’s relieved. She has to change the bowl of water, four maybe five times, she loses track after that, pours her heart into caring for him and leaves the rest to God.

Night has fallen, she has a massive pile of bullets, shredded broken feathers, terrible wound some of which could really use stitches, but she does her best with the very inadequate contents of the First Aid kit which she found behind the bar. And how do you even use bandaids on archangel wings? That’s a celestial problem she’s never even thought of.

She giggles, slightly hysterically, at her own thoughts.

The shirt has to go, it isn’t going to be recoverable, so she finds a pair of scissors, and strips it off him.

Now the tricky part, the wings are a mess, and it can’t be comfortable for him with them hanging off the edge of the bed. His bed is huge, she doesn’t even have to fold them all that much, just enough so that their weight is supported by his mattress.

It’s one heck of a task. She figures out how to fold each one, just a little, but the theory and the reality are kind of two different things. The wings are heavy, and it’s quite a struggle to fold them. She notices that, on some level, he must know that she’s trying to help him, help them. Each wing lets her fold it, and lay its weight on the bed, framing his prone body.

He’s still mostly out. He’s breathing slightly easier, which is a relief, and she strokes a hand through his ruffled hair, he makes this strange little humming sound and nudges his head against her hand, a bit like a cat.

She can’t be afraid of him. She sends a little ‘Sorry’ message to the Big Guy, “but how could you do that to your son?” She looks up then, fingering the little cross at her throat, while her other hand continues to stroke through Lucifer’s hair.

It can’t hurt to pray for her friend. She will believe that, whatever the plan, God has mercy.

 

It is very late. She really ought to go home, get a shower, get some sleep, clean clothes for work tomorrow, but she is very loathe to leave him. She makes a movement as if she’s going to get up, and he whimpers in his sleep, his breathing rate starts to go up again. So she slides back close to him again and pets his hair and his shoulder trying to calm him.

“Okay, i’ll stay.” She looks down at the state of her clothing, her favourite jeans might never be clean again. “But you owe me big, buddy.” He makes this endearing snuffly noise, and she can’t help but smile. The Devil is a cuddler. Who knew?

She tries not to think too hard about the actual answer to that question.

She eases out from under when he’s calmed down, and goes to find something to sleep in. She swims in his shirts, and they are not exactly the most ideal thing to sleep in, but his closet has probably fifty white ones hanging up, so surely he’s not going to miss one.

It’s incredibly soft against her skin, and for a second she hesitates, because apparently the shirt she selected is silk, and she figures she probably should have gone for something in cotton, but then she shrugs and puts it on anyway.

 

He seems to sense her presence when she approaches the bed, and he turns on his side with a grunt of effort. They’re lying on top of the comforter, but it’s a hot night, she doubts she is going to be able to get him under the covers on her own, the shirt is quite warm by itself, so she eases onto the bed, expecting to just lie next to him.

Greedy arms grab her close, the left wing lifts enough to cover her, he grunts with effort at that, and she can’t help but feel his pain. Putting her hand to his left cheek, she cups it gently, surprised when he snuggles closer, resting his right cheek on her shoulder. He seems to be trying to shield her, and she wonders if somehow he is reliving the terrible events of the afternoon.

She is so tired, too tired to think or imagine what’s going through his mind, it’s enough that she was able to help him. He doesn’t seem to want to let go, so she wraps her arms around his neck to hold him close, and drifts away to sleep, enfolded in the arms and wing of the fallen archangel.


	2. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Ella go dancing.
> 
> Meanwhile, back at the precinct everything is far from okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the magical restaurant by the sea, is based upon my knowledge of 1930s and 1940s Hollywood movies, it is a complete fabrication, because I doubt such a thing really exists today.
> 
> However, these dinner and dance clubs oozed an atmosphere that was truly magical, and I needed to give Lucifer and Ella something magical that is truly theirs. No one else's.

It was three days before Lucifer could fold his wings away. Even after he did, there was still pain. Unused to healing slowly, he found restrictive movement difficult to cope with.

Ella was worried. Lucifer seemed very unlike his usual ebullient self. The consequences of what had gone down were clearly eating at him.

And of Chloe Decker there was no sign.

Lucifer stayed away from the precinct.

So Ella kept going back. Trying to be the best friend she could, because he might be the Devil, but he was breaking at the loss of Chloe.

So there were nights on the couch, with blankets and tubs of ice-cream and popcorn, and movies playing in the background, as Lucifer discovered that amongst all the sci-fi and fantasy, Ella loved a good fright fest, even though she would squeak and jump sometimes. He had no idea why, but when she did, he felt compelled to wrap her in his aching wings.

He would play the piano, and she would hum, and sway, and somehow he would feel compelled to get to his feet, and they would dance to the sound system.

She was good. Damn good. Without really intending it, he found his heart lifted as they whirled and swayed across his polished floor. He found himself arranging the furniture so they would have more space to dance. Dancing with Ella became the highlight of his days and nights.

 

Chloe missed him. So much. But every time she thought of going to see him, something held her back. It really didn’t help that Trixie kept asking where Lucifer was. He was such a big part of her life that his absence was really noticeable. But she was struggling to get over the Devil hurdle. He could hardly blame her for that. Her world had been turned upside down by the revelation that everything that Lucifer had said was absolutely true.

Including the part about Marcus Pierce. How he was Cain. And Chloe had discovered that Cain’s body had disappeared from the mortuary. Someone had collected it. Trouble was. No one could tell her who.

But, that didn’t alter the fact that her radar was so bust she couldn’t even pick up on the fact that she had been about to marry the Sinnerman.

So many questions. Needing so many answers before she can return to him. And she does intend to.

Not yet.

 

Ella hums to herself as she studies her reflection in the mirror. These last few weeks have been amongst the happiest of her life. Tonight they’re going out dancing, and she studies the dress. It’s beautiful, a kind of powder blue, maybe a hint of lilac, it’s knee length, soft and pretty. She has absolutely no doubt it has cost a fortune. A gift.

She twirls, laughing as the skirt spins out, floating. He really cares about her too. Far from losing her faith, she finds it reinforced.

The knock at her door, has her grabbing her purse, and practically bouncing to the door.

He says she looks beautiful. She grins and says that he looks beautiful too. Well he does. Always elegant, he does something special to the formal black tuxedo and bow tie that makes him stand out even more.

He smiles at that and holds out his hand, with the tiniest hint of a blush, she places her hand in his, and he escorts her to his car. For tonight it’s not the Corvette, and for the briefest instant she mourns that fact. But the car he’s driving tonight is Italian, sleek and beautiful. She gives a hum of appreciation as he opens the door for her and hands her into the most luxurious car seat she thinks she’s ever sat in.

She really can’t help running her fingers over the silky polished wood finish, the little trident badge, it’s a Quattroporte after all, and everything is perfect.

Lucifer likes to drive fast, but tonight he’s almost sedate, knowing that she wants to experience the ride, he does everything to make it wonderful.

The restaurant by the sea is one she’s sure she’s never heard of, and the big dance floor is a surprise. It’s clearly popular, but the maitre d’ obviously knows Lucifer. They’re shown to a beautiful table, overlooking the beach. Lucifer orders wine. Ella might be more of a beer gal, but she appreciates the quality of the wine.

The restaurant is the exclusive kind that doesn’t print prices on the menu, and Ella’s quite glad of that. She orders dishes that she’s certain she will enjoy, despite the archangel attempting to tempt her to try some other things, it’s a little bit of a game between them. She won’t be lead.

They linger over their courses, enjoying each other’s company. Lucifer feels lighter than he has in some time. Ella’s bubbly personality is surprisingly soothing.

It’s an orchestra, which comes as something of a surprise, and Ella is entranced. She’s never been anywhere like this before. Couples are beginning to dance, and Lucifer pushes his chair back, holding out his hand he smiles, “Shall we?”

She’s excited, this is just incredible. She places her hand in his, feels his fingers tremble just slightly, knows that against the odds, he’s excited too.

Dancing is freedom. He holds her in his arms, and it feels like flying. She’s sure she’s never danced like this before. Her sole focus is Lucifer as he guides her across the floor.

Miss Ella Lopez is a magical creature, he’s sure of that. She feels as light as a feather in his arms, her steps confident and sure, her bodyflight perfect, he could dance all night like this. He holds her gaze, the gentle smile on her face, the happy light in her eyes.

They are unaware of the other couples, lost in their own world of music and dance.

 

It had been weeks. He knew he had to go back to the precinct. He really wasn’t ready, but Ella’s gentle coaxing, and Linda’s support were the fuel.

It didn’t help that Chloe’s response was to never be alone with him. Dan’s chilly distance Lucifer got, Charlotte was gone, and the douche was struggling. The precinct wasn’t actually in uproar, but that came as a surprise. There was a new Lieutenant, clearly a broom brought in to deal with the fall out of Cain. Lucifer realised that in the short time Marcus Pierce had been there, his tentacles had spread wide, the Sinnerman had more than one face, and Lucifer knew he should have realised this, but hung up on his own issues, and his relationship with Chloe, he hadn’t seen the insidious criminal empire that Cain had built only in a few months.

All of which begged some questions that Lucifer was really sure he didn’t want to know the answer to. Was any of what he had with Marcus Pierce even real? This wasn’t even a manipulation by his Father. And what did that say? How much had he blamed on his Father which probably wasn’t even his Father? What actual use was he to Chloe when he apparently couldn’t see past his own nose?

Confused and despondent the subdued Devil retreated to his penthouse.

 

Ella hummed to herself as she rode the elevator up to the penthouse. It was something of a calculated risk, but he’d retreated into his shell, and… well… She missed him. The precinct was colder and greyer without him.

So she put on the pretty party dress that Lucifer had given her, dolled up to the nines, and set out in search of the Devil. Once more into the breach, and all that.

The doors opened, and she stepped out.

He was seated at his piano. Just staring at it. The lid was down, and that alone unnerved her a little. She moved then, certain that he had heard her, laid her hand on his shoulder. He was shivering beneath her fingers. “I’ve lost the music, Miss Lopez.” He whispered.

She bit her lip, and wrapped her arms around him tightly, as he turned seeking her embrace.

His arms were around her waist, his face buried against her torso, he was quivering in her arms, making little sounds like a wounded animal, and all Ella could do was hold him.

She tentatively moved a hand up to the back of his neck, stroked her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him. She bent her head, and whispered to him, “you haven’t lost the music, just misplaced it…” wondering at her own temerity, “how about we find it together?”

He held on for a few minutes more, before he could bear to pull away from her gentle embrace. Looked up into her eyes, wordlessly he nodded.

 

So they went back to the magical restaurant by the sea. And it was even better than the first time.


	3. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella and Lucifer enter a dance competition... for fun.
> 
> Chloe is jealous and doesn't know how to deal with her feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, just to advance the action a little, because I couldn't quite figure out how to put the two pieces of a much longer chapter that this was originally together. So short chapter, and the chapter count has gone up a little... Because there is scary stuff to come.
> 
> Yes, I am evil. Yes, I enjoy it.

Chloe knows she needs to do something. Anything. At this point she has left it so long, maybe too long, and she knows that too. The distance between Lucifer and herself is now somewhat chilly and awkward, and she was trying to figure out the best way to tell him that she wasn’t scared of him, but of what he represented, and how she still loved him. Only she wasn’t sure how to get him to believe her, and then things started to change.

Whenever he came in, he would leave a coffee on her desk and then gravitate to Ella in her office. Whenever Chloe saw them together in Ella’s office, they looked very comfortable with each other. Once she even saw them in each other’s arms, or so she thought, Ella was standing, her back to Lucifer’s chest, their left hands were clasped in front of Ella’s body. He was smiling down at her, and she was looking back over her shoulder up at him, everything about the way they stood, and the way they looked at each other was making Chloe’s hackles rise. Then Ella swung out in a graceful move, and faltered a little, seemingly missing her steps. Lucifer frowned slightly, and then to Chloe’s surprise, he seemed to be demonstrating some sort of footwork for her, Ella was nodding and smiling… and then they did it all over again and it was clearly some sort of dance move, and Chloe didn’t know whether she was losing her mind.

They were dancing. Actual dancing. That didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Chloe tried to process the entire scene, and couldn’t. She couldn’t step in and accuse them of something she herself wasn’t entirely sure was taking place in the first place. It was all rather confusing really.

After that first time, it seemed there was no stopping them. Every single time she saw them together they always seemed to be dancing. Everywhere. If she had thought Lucifer was weird before hey, Devil, now she was trying to square the circle of the Devil and the Forensic Scientist, Dancing.

 

It was Lucifer who first noticed the competition posting, and at first he was going to just dismiss it, but Ella thought it looked like it would be a lot of fun. And the Devil never turned down fun. It was balm for his wounded heart Chloe’s cold distance had created, and Ella needed fun too. So, they started to practice, working out a dance routine.

Suddenly his days were filled with dance steps, and music and laughter. Ella was as light as one of his feathers, so at her suggestion of some of the more daring moves, he readily accepted. He could always catch her, so she would never get hurt.

Ella had no idea when it went from just being for fun, to being serious. She wanted to win. With Lucifer as her partner she had every chance. He had rhythm, he had soul, and he had some fantastic dance moves. When he lifted her, it all felt so easy. She began to let go, attempting some of the more athletic moves, and as he continued to catch her with consummate ease, she found herself growing in confidence.

 

The casual ease of Ella and Lucifer’s relationship couldn’t have contrasted more than Chloe’s relationship with her devil. With her, he always seemed to be riding on a knife edge. Expecting the worst, and Chloe couldn’t help it, she started to resent the amount of time he spent in Ella’s company. Perhaps less the time, than the ease, but Chloe wasn’t about to admit that to herself. Yet.

 

By the night of the competition they were well-rehearsed, and ready for anything. Ella had found herself a pretty deep red top, and a pair of three-quarter length black swing style pants that went with the theme, Lucifer’s immaculate suit black, black shirt, deep red tie the only colour, they matched, and that somehow gave her further confidence.

They won the first round easily, and the second, and then the quarter final.

 

She had followed them, no idea why she had done it, but she had. Perhaps stalkers never learned anything good about themselves, especially her kind of stalker, because this was torture. Her own fault, she couldn’t blame Ella, except she could… because he was hers dammit.

She watched them on the dance floor, hating the spontaneous round of applause as Ella bounced, flipped over in an easy mid air somersault, Lucifer caught her with ease and flipped her back to land on her feet, his happy grin, the way Ella’s eyes sparkled as she looked up at him adoringly. Joy on both their faces, and something inside Chloe shrivelled then.

They were hugely popular winners of the first round, and hearing that they would be going forward to the finals, which were statewide and would take place next month at the same venue, Chloe honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The sands of time were running out, she would have to win her Lucifer back, or risk losing him forever.

She wasn’t sure she could stand that.


End file.
